THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,251

point to my fucked up face. He laughs, puts the truck in gear, and heads to Morg’s. When we get close I start getting wound up like a fucking top. I miss her and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since I last saw her. I have it so fucking bad. Playing it cool and distant in hopes of earning my pride back isn’t going to work for very long.

I pull out my cell phone with the intentions of texting Morg when I see about ten missed phone calls—a few from Morganna and several from Phillipe. “What the fuck,” I mutter under my breath. Staring straight ahead, wide-eyed, I listen to the first voicemail in the queue—the one from Phillipe earlier this afternoon.

Listen, Steve. We know who super creepy stalker is. Call me back as soon as possible. Toni the bloodhound put the pieces together.

Okay, that makes sense. Now I have someone to kill. Check. My heart rate speeds, and my fingers shake as I play the next one.

It’s him. My God, Steven it’s him. Please pick up your phone. Please.

Morganna’s voice is a pleading whisper. Those are the only two messages. The last one came in just minutes before. The rest are just missed calls from earlier in the day. Panic wells in my chest…a feeling so severe, I’ve never experienced it before. Though my mind is still foggy drunk, I know it’s bad. Heightened awareness of everything is a symptom of panic and I start surveying everything from my window.

“Drive faster!” I bark. The new guy swerves around the corner heading to Morganna’s house. My foot beats the floorboard and my hands bang the dashboard in a tap, tap, tap rhythm. My mind spins. Who is it? Who could it be? Why is she so scared? Did she call anyone else? Just minutes ago. I can’t be too late. Why didn’t she say more?

We slide into her driveway, skidding wheels and hot brakes, and that’s when the bottom of my stomach drops out of my asshole. Not literally, just proverbially. The shock is that jarring.

Her front door is swung wide open and from my vantage point I see him—the goddamned motherfucker extending a handgun in front of him, eyes trained on whoever is there. I jump out of the truck and head for the light of the front door, and toward a scene from my worst fucking nightmare.

His black handgun sweeps left as he takes aim at me. I stop dead in my drunken tracks.

Morganna

Alex.

I’ve been so stupid, so na?ve, so unlike myself these past months that I never put the clues together. Alex, the guy I’ve dated and shared intimate details about my life with, is actually Penelope’s ex-husband, David.

He’s a master. Because I never met with David in person and because he’s disguised his looks to such a degree, it never crossed my mind that Alex could be the scorned, wife beating, ex-husband of one of my clients. When my detectives lost his trail several months ago I figured he moved to Europe to be an asshole to someone new. Parading around as someone else never crossed my mind. His cover was extensive, his game was perfect. He snared me without any work at all. Hook. Line. Sinker. He was patient, methodical, and scrupulous with details of his life. I never saw where he lived, and never questioned it because I was too wrapped up in my own life. His being at my beck and call was a convenience.

Toni called me today when she saw images of me and Alex posted online from the gala. She just happened to be filing cases and the images from Penelope’s divorce, and recognized him with the new shorter haircut. I didn’t believe her, but when I started questioning Alex about his past, he knew something was up. I sent a few texts and then he stopped responding to me altogether. I reviewed the security footage over and over and, sure enough, the hooded man in the video had a similar, slumped-over posture. After that the avalanche of idiotic details I should have picked up on ate me alive. Why was he always so forgiving? Why exactly was he at my beck and call so frequently? I’m a tough personality to to deal with. And, in light of my relationship with Steven, to still hang around? These are glaring things now, but my Steven induced insanity caused me to turn a blind eye to many things.

Steven hasn’t answered his cell